Ch.190Work Record #028 – Beautiful Enough to Dazzle the Eyes (6)

It’s an incredibly busy month. Countless events have been occurring, flaring up, and dying down all within a week. It feels like all bad things happen at once.

Prometheus was trying to achieve his goal, Jerome had cloned me, and now the Non-Human Liberation Front was about to start their madness because of the Transparent Eye.

The good news is that every problem has a solution. I persuaded Prometheus. Regarding Jerome’s situation, I saved as many people as possible. As for the NHLF… they’ll be dealt with now.

The person Kay wanted to apologize to was Manager Dewey Novak, whose life was taken because of her, not some eye fanatics willing to do anything for the Transparent Eye. The NHLF was unnecessary.

Therefore, there was absolutely no reason to share the true location of the Transparent Eye with them. Not many would be left to hear it anyway. I connect to the freelancer communication channel and speak.

“Building sweep complete. What’s the situation with the other buildings?”

“Terminals everywhere. I’m just about to—”

Another gunshot rings out with a flash from inside the adjacent building, and the voice continues.

“Done. What about the rest?”

“Whew! That was some intense shooting. I’ve taken care of those that came out to the street. Our Tinker in the back seems to have finished dealing with the drones, and Special Ops—well, that goes without saying!”

I jump down lightly from the rooftop and land. The street was littered with yellow pools of bullet casings from Ruiner’s gun, and Ruiner herself was leaning against her machine gun, wearing only her bodysuit after removing her exosuit.

“With that kind of performance, it’s hard to believe you look so ordinary. How many magazines did you use, Boogeyman?”

Ruiner usually spoke quite elegantly. She might sound refined as long as she avoided vulgar curses and slang, but she was still Ruiner.

“One carbine magazine and one and a half pistol magazines. How about you, Ruiner?”

She grinned and held up two fingers, wiggling them. Unlike my silent landing, Ilbelly jumped down from the building with a heavy thud.

“You must have gone through two boxes, Ruiner. The Special Ops team probably had an easier time thanks to you. Tinker would have handled things with drones as usual… Oh, Boogeyman, can I ask you something?”

I nod slightly. Perhaps wanting to savor the fact that the uncomfortable business was finally over, Ilbelly asked a somewhat mischievous question. It wasn’t a particularly concerning one.

“If you were thrown into that building with just a tactical knife and no gun, how long would it have taken you?”

“About the same time. Though my clothes would have been a bit dirtier.”

After changing from combat boots to heels, Ruiner appeared to be about my height. She approached with her heels clicking—almost integrated with her bodysuit—and wrapped her arm around my neck.

Her suit was cold, perhaps designed to withstand the heat from the exosuit. It was so cold compared to LA’s January weather that I could see steam rising. She grinned.

“The fact that this doesn’t sound like bravado makes me think I like the rookie… or maybe it’s not bravado at all. Hmm? I really do like you. You don’t stand out, do you?”

She didn’t seem like someone who would appreciate that quality. Even her exosuit design looked like the outer layer had been removed to expose the artificial muscles.

“Can’t you stop trying to snatch up every young guy you see, Ruiner? I also don’t think it sounds like bravado, but… yeah, it’s probably not.”

It seemed to be because I had discovered that everything in Ilbelly’s car was fake. If I had made a good impression, there was no reason to refuse it.

The Tinker, walking with a somewhat lighter step in his exosuit that had probably contained disposable drones, gave Ruiner a look of disdain… but he didn’t doubt my abilities.

I could see the Special Ops director approaching us through Ruiner’s eye-searingly bright pink bodysuit. I remove her arm and approach the director. There were things I needed to say.

“Belwether made a good call hiring freelancers. We prevented the Technomancer Council from reforming and minimized damage to the city. What is it, Boogeyman? Do you have something to say?”

I recall what I saw inside the apartment. It was the life of ordinary poor people, but I saw those lives shattered. I spoke in a calm voice.

“While the freelancers demonstrated excellent efficiency, it seems Belwether’s security team didn’t show maximum efficiency in this case, Special Ops Director.”

I felt the gazes around me converge at words not easily spoken by a freelancer. From here on, it was just a performance.

And I was quite skilled at performing. I recalled how H Entertainment had discovered an unexpected talent in me.

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. Setting minimum security maintenance zones to optimize city management personnel was generally an efficient decision, but because of that, how many terminals did the Technomancer create?”

“Are you sympathizing with those people?”

Even though he was the Special Ops Director, he was currently an outsider. No, even if he were an insider, it wouldn’t be easy to know that I had been a Belwether employee.

So his suspicion was natural, but I pretended not to accept that naturalness. I showed displeasure. For now, I needed to appear as the most efficiency-obsessed among the efficiency-obsessed.

“No. If I were to sympathize with anyone, I’d sympathize with you, Director. For Belwether, efficiency isn’t about the process. It’s not about doing something with maximum efficiency; it must be maximum efficiency.”

At Belwether, efficiency was the absolute good. It was such a great good that even small evils could be tolerated for the sake of efficiency, for the benefit of all. After reminding him of this point, I continued.

“You’re now handling the cost of not assigning mobile units and patrols to minimum security zones even once a day through Special Ops and hired freelancers. Isn’t that right?”

The Special Ops Director gestured with his chin as if telling me to continue. He seemed to be starting to think that I wasn’t speaking out of mere sympathy.

Is it really not because of sympathy? Probably not. I’m not sure. I didn’t feel sympathy when shooting the terminals. I only felt the sense of doing what needed to be done.

“When the Technomancer created his first terminal, when Alex Peshikov’s son was buying cybernetic parts to become a Technomancer, if mobile units and patrols had been present, what would the cost of handling this situation have been?”

“One bullet. Yes, I agree. There was… some inefficiency now. We ended up having to deploy four freelancers and even Special Ops, and we’ve lost some expected efficiency as well.”

He agreed. Agreement didn’t mean we were standing on the same ground. It meant he had more means to attack. I calmly took his words and returned them to him.

“Then why did Belwether assign us to this case? Wasn’t it because an employee’s death turned all investment in that employee into sunk costs, and you lost expected efficiency?”

Was the minimum security zone plan also Walter’s doing? I chose to believe it wasn’t. Not everything bad was created by Walter. It’s not just stupid and bad people who make everyone unhappy.

It was a world where even if everyone could think rationally and produce the best results, it wouldn’t necessarily be happy. There was no reason to blame the dead Walter forever.

I had been friendly with the old Belwether. After the coup, I needed to become friendly with the new Belwether that was undergoing a transformation. I needed to prove efficiency. I needed to step on the accelerator.

“Efficiency is good, inefficiency is evil. I believe Belwether bears significant responsibility for the increased inefficiency in this case. I request improvements.”

Can I speak with the same voice as Mr. Günter? Can I become someone who, instead of ducking when an earthquake strikes, believes that stomping the ground will stop the earthquake? I was curious about this myself.

The Special Ops Director soon… relaxed his body. His body, which had been maintaining vigilance until now, relaxed like an ordinary person’s and he nodded. Acknowledgment was a virtue for everyone.

“Efficiency is good, inefficiency is evil. You know it well. Yes, I agree. Even to me, it appears we failed in managing the minimum security zones this time. I will convey the improvement points, Boogeyman.”

It seems to have worked somewhat. It appears to have worked very well with the Special Ops teams, who are efficiency-obsessed among the efficiency-obsessed. He gave me a three-finger headquarters-style salute first. I returned the salute.

I watch as Special Ops takes a light running start and grabs a rope ladder dropped from a returning helicopter, then disappears. Transport helicopters used by the recovery team were already flying toward us.

The freelancers’ job is now over. Chance’s motorcycle stops in front of me, and I remove my carbine and bulletproof vest, tucking them under the seat. I also put my blood and oil-stained reddish jacket in a bag and place it inside.

“It doesn’t seem like you were just trying to make a good first impression with us, Boogeyman. Even the Special Ops Director had a look that said, ‘There seems to be a less insane one among the freelancers.'”

“It’s because I’m experiencing a comprehensive lack of abilities right now. I need to become a more skilled mercenary, know more people… be able to persuade more people with words. There’s a lot.”

Ilbelly let out a hollow laugh. At least to him, I already seemed like a sufficiently excellent freelancer. I feel a bit more relieved at that fact.

“A comprehensive lack of abilities, huh. For heaven’s sake, who’s born with a perfect hexagon of skills, Boogeyman? You’re already an excellent freelancer… You’re not planning something crazy, are you?”

“I’m planning something very sane. Probably not much different from what Ilbelly would plan? I just need more abilities to do it.”

Ilbelly had prepared a fake family, a fake home, a fake car, and a terrible welcome drink for intruders to protect his real family. Because he didn’t know who might threaten him.

But I knew who was threatening Eve and me. Hollowed Creek. The cult leader of the Creek. So, I would harpoon him to death and taste the flesh of the whale that was called a god.

For that, I needed more abilities. I needed to become friendly with Belwether. The same goes for Panacea MediTech.

If I could become friendly with both and change Belwether’s mind about mutants, Panacea MediTech would be a better option than Hollowed Creek.

And if it’s a better option, Belwether would consider switching to Panacea MediTech. In that process, they might propose dealing with their angry former partner.

Ruiner, who had pushed aside Ilbelly as he was tilting his head with a puzzled expression, approached me. She naturally circled around me once and then said:

“So, Boogeyman. Any plans after finishing the job? I’m not sure if you know any bars where freelancers can go, not those cheap places where Hive mercenaries hang out.”

“I plan to go home, wait for my girlfriend who gets off work at dawn, and then cuddle with her until eleven in the morning tomorrow. I don’t have a habit of drinking during the day.”

Ilbelly, who had been awkwardly pushed aside, burst into laughter at my words. He seemed to enjoy seeing Ruiner being so clearly rejected. I withstand her sharp kick with my full-body prosthetics.

The Tinker, who had been quietly observing, approached me. He looked at me curiously once, then shook his head as if he couldn’t figure me out. His voice was, as always, deep and plain.

“I thought I had good judgment, but you… I can’t figure out what kind of person you are. A common citizen? No, you seem to know freelancer rights better than I do. Consumed by ambition? Yes, but also no.”

“I’m closer to a common citizen unfamiliar with freelancer authority. Truly. That’s what I think. I even made an airport employee run out without calling for staff, can you believe it?”

“Except for that, you’d be flawless. Are you the type who deliberately creates flaws to appear ordinary and safe?”

It seemed I had earned suspicion rather than trust from the Tinker. Instead of sighing, I let out a light laugh. I pushed my freelancer license toward him.

“It’s because I’m a twenty-three-year-old barely completing three months of social life. I’m the type who helps people in need if I can, does what needs to be done… that kind of feeling.”

“To be honest… I think those six months you spent as an unemployed graduate from Belwether’s employee training university are fake. Were you experimented on by Belwether? Some secret project?”

“Do you believe in alien conspiracy theories, Tinker?”

Ilbelly cut in, laughing heartily. He lightly slapped the Tinker’s chest in his exosuit, making him flinch noticeably. Full-body prosthetics were still full-body prosthetics.

“It’s also rude to talk like that to someone who really believes, man. Given how many UFO sightings there were before that war and how there have been none since, some say aliens were involved in that war.”

“That’s such a simple explanation…”

“No, it isn’t! Next time we meet, bring me a tinfoil hat to wear. You know, the kind that blocks bad waves and such. You know what I mean?”

He had effectively cut off the Tinker’s suspicions just as they were about to cross a line. Ilbelly was definitely a good-natured person. Certainly not a common temperament for a freelancer.

The Tinker grumbled as he returned to his bike. Ilbelly made a gesture like tilting a glass, suggesting we should have a drink sometime, then patted my shoulder before climbing back into his pickup truck.

Ruiner also threw herself into her parked exosuit, fidgeted to find her position, and then got back into the car. The freelancers went their separate ways without hesitation, just as they had gathered. At least I had gained three more freelancer contacts.

What I needed to do now was simple. I had to hunt down the Transparent Eye. Kay had confidently claimed to have found its location last time, and if left alone, there was no telling what foolish thing the NHLF might do.

To be honest, I expect… capturing the Transparent Eye won’t be difficult. It’s a simple task. Just prevent it from accessing external networks and store it in a storage device.

The difficult part was the story of Kay and Manager Dewey Novak. Could Manager Dewey Novak forgive someone who had taken his entire life away? Could Kay ask for forgiveness from that person?

Perhaps… she could. I chose to believe so. For Kay’s life to return to being her own rather than the guardian of the Transparent Eye, this was something she had to do herself.

It’s a life-risking task. Manager Dewey Novak might resolve his resentment by forgiving her, or he might resolve it by pulling the trigger against Kay’s head.

There was much to do, but all of it concerned people. Another day had passed, but what was drawing closer wasn’t the day of the AI uprising, but the day Kay would confront her past.